


The Empress's Duty

by botgal



Category: Homestuck
Genre: An Empress does her best, Beforus Ancestors, Beforus Culling, Beforus History, Both kinds of culling, Character Death, Culling, Empress Feferi Peixes, Hints at Kankri's fate, It doesn't end well for anyone, No happy endings, Stabbing, even if it's doing bad things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botgal/pseuds/botgal
Summary: Your name is Feferi Peixes. Your title is Her Resplendent Benevolence. You are the Empress over all Trolls. You love your planet and you love your people. You would do anything to keep the both of these safe.And your hands are stained with blood.





	The Empress's Duty

Your name is Feferi Peixes. Your title is Her Resplendent Benevolence. You are the Empress over all Trolls. You love your planet and you love your people. You would do anything to keep the both of these safe.

And your hands are stained with blood.

If anything, you'd have to say that this started long, long ago during your rule. Everything seemed to be perfectly in place. Your Empire was ruling and expanding peacefully. Your people had plenty of food and shelter. You had your quadrants in what seemed to be a perfect line. All seemed peaceful and happy and all outspoken conflicts were resolved so quickly it was as if they had never happened at all. Your whole world was whole.

Then, a stirring happened among the Jades. Something happened, you weren't certain just what it was, but a grub was found. One of such a bright and unforseen color that some of them whispered horror stories about it amongst themselves. A grub brighter red than any Burgundy, hotter than one, too.

A mutant.

Of course, such a creature would not be begrudged a place, no matter that no lusus would accept him. Many Highbloods would love the great honor of taking into their hearths and hives and culling such a strange grub. So kind are those under your rule.

However, you felt something special about this grub. Not just for his blood or for the strangeness of him. It was just... something about him, something that drew you to this tiny grub who belonged nowhere in your perfectly organized and cultivated Empire.

So, you culled him.

Unfortunately, though, the realities of an Empress culling a grub weren't quite as glamorous as you might have hoped. Though you tried to make time for the grub you culled and named, little Karkat, you felt guilty about being unable to care for him properly. Always doing things for your Empire and your people, never enough time for your precious treasure of a grub. So, alas, you had to relent that you weren't able to care for him as a culler. So, you gave him to the next best person you could have hoped for.

The Empyrean was, as you unfortunately expected, not exceptionally cooperative about the whole ordeal. He tried to make excuses about why he couldn't cull a grub, always too busy with his research or his silly little 'magic' things, or busy serving you. Well, when you replied firmly that culling this grub would be the highest thing he could possibly do to serve you, that shut him up very quickly. And he relented, taking upon himself the duty of culling your dear little Karkat.

To be honest... he did much better than you expected. Far exceeded what you ever might have hoped for, actually. At best you hoped he might grow to tolerate Karkat, or at least gain a basic understanding of why culling could be such a fulfilling practice for any Highblood to take up.

As a matter of fact, no matter how much he tried to hide it, anyone could see plainly that he had grown to absolutely _adore_ his previously much complained about charge. He took to carrying the child everywhere he went after he pupated, even to court, when he said he'd leave him at his hive as much as possible. He protected and treasured him, dressed him better than most could picture, got him excellent tutors, even taught the child to swim himself. Had it not been for the lack of gills, one could have sworn the little Redblood was an off color Sea Dweller he swam so well. You could have done with the Empyrean watching his language a bit more (if you were honest with yourself, at all) during Karkat's formative years, but the child at least learned his decorum and mostly refrained from using such vulgarities in front of you. Karkat was one of the only ones you had ever known who could get your long time palemate to crack a smile. Even his off and on kismesis (a certain Cerulean you'd entertained flush relations with here and there), the Preemin8, would admit offhandedly to finding the child entertaining. Which you know was just her code for 'I like him'. From the ever friendly Grand Highblood, The Gospeler, to even Forerunn the grouchy Blue Blood who you were certain had some form of soft spot for him.

It made you so happy, knowing your treasure was being cared for, and your moirail was so happy with cullerhood.

It seemed Karkat had that effect on a lot of people. Even in court as a wiggler, it never took long for him to gain attention and keep it. You had seen Highbloods several times his age stopping to listen to him talk about whatever subject caught his fancy to talk about. It made you somewhat somber, at the time. If ever he could have accomplished being a speaker, it would have been so short lived, him being a mutant.

As time went on, you began to miss when the only thing you had to be sad about him was pondering what he might try to do with his little life.

Time passed, Karkat grew older, and you began to sense a change in Karkat. He began to seem... dissatisfied. His wigglerhood chattering that held attention faded to something more serious by the time he was seven sweeps. Less on things he knew, chattering about things he learned, and asking more questions.

Why was he discouraged from taking certain schoolfeeding courses? Why should he expect to be disallowed by certain career paths as he grew older? Why were all of his talents only seen as amusing tricks when others who could do them were revered? Why were things the way they were? Why why why why  **why** ?

You always answered the best you could. He would live only so long. It wouldn't be right to take from others who could do better longer in those careers. It's only how people see him since he's so novel to him. Because that was how they were and how you made them be because it was for the best. Yes you knew it was for the best because you said so. You said so because you just knew it would be good for everyone...

Nothing seemed to satisfy him. Even when his culler was able to end the conversations, you began to sense a sense of genuine dislike for how things were. Why, you don't know. You'd given him a proper life with a respectable Troll who was honestly a good culler. Even when you asked your moirail, his answer was always the same. The boy was growing, he wanted more out of life. Wasn't that true of any Troll coming into their own?

Perhaps, but... not Karkat. He was a mutant. So delicate. He  _ needed _ to be taken care of. Even if your moirail had some grumblings, it was for the best. You're certain of it. You know you're right.

Then... came the final argument. Returning from court one night, nearing dawn, he stopped you. Eyes barely beginning to speckle with color looking far older than he was, he asked you one question.

Do you really think culling is always right?

You didn't know what to say. Was he dissatisfied with his culled life? He always seemed so happy as a wiggler. No, he reassured you. He had been happy being culled by the Empyrean. He had a good life, he was fortunate and, if he dared say,  _ blessed _ , with the life he had been granted. Probably more than even an unculled Troll. But.. he spoke not of himself.

He spoke of things that made no sense to you. Things he noticed in other cullees and their cullers. Unhappiness. Fear. Anger. Relationships between culler and cullee that didn't seem right. Children with adults who seemed too close to them for even culling to justify. Adults who seemed to have the very power imbalances of blood an culling forced on them for such minor things which they could take care of themselves for, but which deemed them fit for culling because they weren't perfectly able bodied.

He began civilly, but the more he spoke, the more you felt attacked. This system existed before, but you  _ bettered _ it. Tried to make it so all would be taken care of and no one would want for anything! Even if some weren't happy with how they were directed in their lives, sacrifices had to be made to make such a perfect society where everyone is cared for as yours.

He asked of the cullees again. What of them? Those who wanted to decide for themselves what they wanted but could never have it because of how culling deemed them almost less than Troll.

Heart full of emotions, you had smiled at him, and drawn him close. As you have many times over the sweeps. From when he was a grub in your arms to innocent hugs of childhood, even to now. And you told him the real truth of it.

They didn't know what was best for them. What they wanted wasn't always what they needed, so you needed to do it for them. They couldn't possibly make that decision properly themselves.

They're only Lowbloods, after all.

The look on his face when he pulled away from you... It was as if he didn't even know who you were. He didn't even say another word before he turned away from you and hurried off. The air of someone who had seen a ghost around him.

Not a few weeks later, Karkat disappeared.

No one knew where he might have gotten to. Your moirail was running himself ragged in his frantic search for his missing cullee. But not a single clue was found as to his whereabouts. No one could find him anywhere. For all intents and purposes, the mutant Troll had vanished off the face of Beforus.

–

It wasn't until a few sweeps later that there was a whisper of something... unpleasant on the horizon. Murmurs of a Troll arousing interesting discussions on how Beforus was run. The distribution of power. The assignment of high power positions. Culling. Culling was a big issue on this Troll's list, it seemed. The commonly accepted facet of Beforus society seemed to become a hot button issue almost overnight, everyone seemed to suddenly have some opinion.

All thanks to the Troll that people murmured the name of: 'The Exstante.

His name seemed to be everywhere as of late. Causing ripples of tension and talk that never seemed to exist before, but that everyone wanted to talk about now.

His name came from secret forums. Then public talks. Until he was getting his letters published in big periodicals and such. Though he always refused to reveal his identity or even his blood color to the world. No matter who he was, though, one thing was for certain. He was  _ dangerous _ . Dangerous to everything you had ever tried to work towards in building your empire.

At the same time, there was a sudden spike in hive invasions and assaults on Highbloods. In their own hives nonetheless. Nothing vandalized or stolen. Well, nothing but Trolls. Cullees vanishing left and right from their cullers. Gone without a trace. And the problem kept getting worse. And people were talking more and more about how perhaps wasn't this not such a bad thing? Given how culling could potentially be, even if there was no negative  _ proof _ against it.

It didn't take long to put two and two together.

This Exstante, he was trying to take apart your Empire from behind shadows and whispers. Attacking your policies in public and trying to take down your institutions where no one could see him do it.

Then, a Highblood turned up brutally beaten after one such invasion. Such serious injuries it had to have happened with a vengeance.

Enough was enough. This Troll was clearly a threat. One that had to be dealt with before he destroyed everything about your beloved Empire and brought more harm to your people. You just had to find a way to do it quickly and quietly. So as not to disturb the peace of your subjects.

And, as fortune would habit, the way to do so found you. In the form of a request for a royal audience with you. Not through mail carriers or anything official. It simply appeared on the windowsill to your private respite block where you stayed when you were above water in the land based palace. You didn't know how it got there, and quite frankly you should have been disturbed that anyone could get there or even knew where your block was. But the slate grey, looping handwriting on the front intrigued you. So, against perhaps better judgement, you opened it.

Wouldn't you know it. A message from the Exstante himself. Requesting a private audience with you. He even offers you the choice of time and place, and gives you a place to send your response to. He only requests being able to bring along one guard just in case, and allows the public knowledge or privacy of the meeting to be at your discretion.

This is the opportunity you've needed... and you have to take it. You know the threat that this Exstante holds to your Empire and you must put a stop to it. You set the date and time, and have your message delivered through the proper channels.

And then you wait. And steel yourself for what must be done.

–

The day comes more quickly than expected, and you finally feel you've prepared yourself. What must happen must happen today. When all others are asleep. For the good of your Empire and your people.

You make your way to the room where it must happen, standing there in the doorway in all your grandness.

And you find yourself fixed with eyes so brightly red that it's almost like staring into gemstones. You nearly freeze up when you realize who this Exstante before you is.

Karkat. The Exstante. One and the same and standing right before you with a troll with wide horns. It's only by years of practice that you keep your hands from trembling, and you greet him as cordially as you can. For now, he's a guest. You need to treat him like one. For now.

You offer him a seat, and he takes it. His bodyguard chooses to stand beside his chair. It almost hurts you, knowing he thinks he has to be suspicious around you. (Even if he may be right to be so.)

He begins by thanking you for your time and this meeting, and then moves on to apologize. He didn't intend for people to get hurt as they have, the state of the Highblood was made in the moment and it was never meant to happen. Only that tempers ran high and there was nothing else to be done except apologize for it. He proceeded to launch into a series about his findings about the state of culling in the empire. The injustices which have taken place. How cullers have abused their cullees under their power in more ways than one. He really believes that what he is doing is correct, no matter what... You can feel the lump forming in your throat.

You stand up when he finished, gazing down at him and the fellow he brought with him. Your words are light and you try to make them as calm as possible.

He has gone out into the world, and it seems he has done many things (even if you disapprove of many of the things he's done). But now he's gotten to a point you're not sure he understands what he's getting into, and you want him to leave all this behind. Return to his life and stop this nonsense. The anger in his face is burning and livid, but you wanted to give him this. One last chance to stop the nonsense and end it peacefully.

You know even before he speaks that it's not an option for him. Your sadness catches in your throat and you clutch the end of the table, as if to steady yourself.  
Before you have to be the Empress, and protect your Empire.

You click the button under the table, and the shackles close around his wrists. He gasps and immediately begins struggling before the chains previously hidden from sight haul him up and pull him backwards so he slams against the wall. The bodyguard he has brought with him jumps to his defense, glaring at you, but he's easily brushed aside. You can't allow yourself to wince when he hits the opposite wall as you step forward. You are the Empress. You have your Empire and your people. And you have to do what's right for them. No matter the cost.

The gold of your trident gleams in your hand as it appears, gripped tight between your fingers. You are the Empress, you do what is right for your people. No matter what it has to be, you will do it to protect those under your care and all you have worked to build for them. You raise the golden weapon, for just a moment you see a flash of bright red eyes looking at you, into you, pleadingly...

It's over before you really know what has happened.

You're alone in the room now, the bodyguard is gone. Tears are streaming down your face and your hands are red your clothes are red there's a giant puddle of red on the floor and on the wall in front of you dripping even more red is... what used to be someone you cared about. The red you used to cradle and carry so delicately, now staining all of you while you sob silently in the back room.

His body will be snuck away. The room will be cleaned so not a stain remains. His body will be found, his death deemed an accident. Your moirail mourns as if the fact of his former cullee's death causes him agony down to the depths of his soul.

The assaults on Highblood cullers dwindle to nothing.

The Exstante is no more.

You have done your duty to your people as Empress.

Even at the cost of a broken heart.

–

Your name is Feferi Peixes. Your title is Her Resplendent Benevolence. You are the Empress over all Trolls. You love your planet and you love your people. You would do anything to keep the both of these safe.

A stirring happens among the Jades. And your heart nearly stops.

The Jade before you has brought to you a grub. One with blood brighter than any burgundy and nowhere on the known spectrum. The poor woman doesn't know about this significance. Almost no one does. The Gospeler remains, but your moirail passed on long ago (no longer even your moirail when that time came).

You decidedly do not tell the Gospeler when you are brought this grub. Already your mind is filled with red and tears and pain you never want to feel again in your blood pusher. You can never let that happen again. This threat to the Empire cannot come a second time. You won't allow it, for yourself, the Empire, and the innocent grub brought before you.

You send for a culler to care for the grub. Someone who will keep him safe and secluded in a normal life where he will know no hardship, but where he will cause no trouble. Secretly, to draw no attention, you look through cullers until you've found one who seems like the perfect fit. A Purple Blood, no longer affiliated with the Church. A history of culling other Trolls of various ages and castes. Seemingly stable quadrants and no history of anything negative. It's almost too good to be true.

You send the request, telling her the special circumstances, and to your joy she accepts. She would be honored, she says, to cull a grub for the Empress. And everything is set.

The Monastic is every bit as impressive in person as she seemed to be in her records. She steps towards you with the most grace and curtsies like a proper lady. Then she looks to the Jade holding the grub. Her movements as she takes the little thing are practiced to perfection. Your heart feels a touch of relief seeing her in action. At least you can be assured that little Kankri will be taken care of... You couldn't help but name him.

You watch him being carried off with a note of sadness, but also one of hope.

Perhaps this time things will be better. He will live a happy, peaceful life, where he won't face hardships. Quiet and calm, with someone who can make him happy in wigglerhood and beyond.

You have faith that the Monastic, Miss Quinne Pierot, will be able to give him this.

And, if nothing else, perhaps with him out of your sight, you needn't be reminded of the blood that you can never wash clean from your hands.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if the biggest twist for some of y'all here was that Feferi murdered Karkat or that Eridan was actually a good culler.


End file.
